


Dinner and Dessert

by pillar_of_salt



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillar_of_salt/pseuds/pillar_of_salt
Summary: The second time Mike sleeps with Nadine, they're both stone-cold sober and she seems nervous as all get-out. Post-3.21, pre-3.23.
Relationships: Mike Barnow/Nadine Tolliver
Kudos: 6





	Dinner and Dessert

She'd ignored all his calls, after election night.

He hadn't expected anything else, really - she'd said he was welcome to try, in a tone that clearly conveyed that any attempt would be met with futility. And he understood - it was a one-night stand and they should have just left it at that. But even knowing that she wasn't going to go for it, he had to try. Because the thing was... he couldn't stop thinking about her. And that was becoming a real fucking problem for him.

He had to practically beg her to let him take her to dinner tonight, it's true, but he likes to see it as persistence, not desperation. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to work for it.

He was nervous about dinner. He wanted it to go well, because he wanted more than one date with her. Thankfully, it had gone even better than he'd dared hope for.

The coming-home-with-him part, of course, was all her idea. He's a gentleman - he'd have never just presumed.

But now he's sitting up against his headboard with Nadine in his lap and his hands are under her shirt and her tongue in his mouth and she's grinding against him so deliciously that he can't think straight.

She loosens his tie and breaks their kiss so she can pull it over his head, not even bothering to untie it, and then begins to undo the buttons on his shirt as she kisses his neck.

He's trying to keep up, but she's somehow already got his shirt and undershirt off and her fingers are unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, and he groans. He grasps her chin with one hand and forces her mouth back onto his. When she runs the palm of her hand over him, through his pants, he swears into the kiss and she grins.

Under her shirt, Mike slides his hands up to lace-covered breasts and squeezes. He moves thumbs over hard nipples and she moans, low and soft, against his lips. It's a big turn-on and _fuck_ , he needs her naked and on his mouth immediately.

"I wanna taste you," he growls. Bold, but it makes her moan again and he's loving that sound.

"Let me give you some pointers," she says huskily, and he tightens his grip on her waist. His mind goes blank, but he tries to focus himself. If she's going to tell him how to please her, he's damn well going to take notes.

"I like it slow," she murmurs, her lips pressed right up against his. "If you wanna make me scream, you have to take your time. Hold my legs open… use the flat of your tongue..." Lewdly, she licks into his mouth like she's giving him a demonstration.

Jesus Christ. He groans, sure that she's trying to make him explode right there in his pants. He doesn't know if he'll be able to go slow for her; he's waited far too long for this. The minute he's got her under his mouth, he's not going to be able to treat her like a lady.

He pulls her as close as possible and drags his nails up her back. He hits the band of her bra, undoes it one-handed, then he rolls her beneath him on the bed. "We have all night, sweetheart."

He hears her breath catch in her throat.

* * *

Nadine doesn't actually think she'll come. She usually doesn't the first time with someone new. (For her, this _is_ the first time; they were both drunk on election night, so that hardly counts. She does know she orgasmed then, of course; she was drunk, uninhibited, and on top. She doesn't remember _all_ of that night, but she must have been good because Mike certainly does.) And she's feeling especially anxious tonight, especially self-conscious, and too inside her head about it all - because it's _Mike B_. She's having sex with Mike B and this was not in her plans. She's trying to fake confidence with dirty talk - she thinks she's doing an admirable job of it - and she can fake the orgasm, too. She's done it enough times in her life. And it'll just be less awkward that way.

Not that anything she said to him was a lie - she _does_ like it slow. And she expects him to go down on her because it's only fair - she knows for a fact that she'd given him a _stellar_ blowjob last time (partly to make him shut up, and partly because she likes it and is good at it), and now he should return the favor.

He's kissing her again and it makes her stomach clench and her heart flutter. He's a good kisser, and she thinks that if he's as good with his tongue down there as he is up here, he might just surprise her.

He gets her to sit up, and pulls her shirt over her head and her bra off her body. She can practically see his pupils blowing out wide with lust as he uncovers more and more of her skin to his gaze. He gently pushes her to lie back against the pillows.

She undoes the fastenings on her pants and slides them down her legs herself, hoping that if she goes faster it'll help her take her mind off of her nervousness. For god's sake - it's not like it's even the _real_ first time he's seen her naked. She shouldn't be this skittish.

Except they're both stone-cold sober this time. To her, that makes a world of difference.

He follows her lead and gets off the bed and removes his own pants, and then his boxers, which have tented in the front. Nadine's eyes drift down his body. She licks her lips involuntarily, already anticipating what he's going to feel like inside of her.

He moves back over to her, smoothing warm hands over her legs, running them up the outside of her thighs and over her hips. He snaps the thin band of her barely-there underwear against her skin. "Very nice," he murmurs appreciatively, and she bites her lip. She'd worn them for him; had thought of this very moment when she'd put them on before their date.

With more tenderness than she might have expected, he urges her to lift her hips, and then slides her underwear down and off.

"Spread your pretty legs for me."

She does, trying to seem more confident about the whole situation than she feels. Mike settles between them and he's touching her skin everywhere he can reach and drinking her in with hungry eyes; he looks so damn turned on by her that she finds herself biting back a moan.

"God," he breathes, and involuntarily clenches his fingers on her thighs like he can't help himself, and her body responds with an instant rush of moisture. He looks like he wants to devour her whole.

Mike's desire for her somehow makes her feel even _more_ anxious, like there are now expectations that she has to meet. It makes her tense up a little, and she suppresses the urge to go turn down the lights.

He must be able to tell that she's nervous. He must be able to feel it under his hands. "Relax," he coaxes. "God, I've been waiting to do this." He presses a gentle kiss to the crease of her thigh. Her hips jerk even at that small touch, and so he does it again. And then again, with tongue. Nadine exhales shakily. It feels good, but she doesn't know how to relax into it; how to just enjoy it. Every unfamiliar insinuation of his lips and tongue on her body makes her jump.

"Mike…"

"If you want me to stop, I'll stop." He licks her inner thigh again.

"N-no, by all means…"

He grins. "Good. I'll go nice and slow, just like you like…"

* * *

Mike tries to go slow. He really does.

He can tell that she's getting a little shy around him, feeling more and more exposed as her clothes come off. She's never struck him as a self-conscious person, but he's beginning to see that her dirty confidence from the beginning of the night was perhaps just an act.

But she has no reason to be shy or nervous or self-conscious because _god_ he wants her more than he's wanted any woman in a long time. She's driving him crazy, and they haven't even gotten to the good parts yet. And he wants this to be good for her. He's eager to show her what he can do, because he's capable of quite a lot. He doesn't think he showed her that the last time they were together.

 _She'd_ been phenomenal. He'd led her up to his bedroom and she'd pressed him against the wall, sank to her knees, and practically swallowed his cock, and then his come. He'd come embarrassingly fast, actually - his only redeeming moment in the whole thing had been that his recovery was quick. But then she'd pushed him down on his own bed and rode him like an equestrian, and he'd damn near lost his mind.

He dreamed about her for weeks afterward.

And now she's in his bed again, under him and naked and sexy as hell, and he's going to make sure she _enjoys_ this. He's going to make her come until she sees stars.

And she says she likes it slow and who is he to argue? He wants to give her everything she wants. He can go slow.

She's a little tense still but she doesn't want him to stop touching her, so he doesn't. He kisses and licks up and down her smooth thighs, slow and gentle, forcing himself not to dive right in. She's just scant inches away from his face and her scent alone is almost enough to drive him mad.

He finally, finally brings his hands to her apex and spreads her open. He gives her a long lick, bottom to top, nice and slow.

She rewards him with a full-bodied moan, and raises her hips to his face. And she's warm and she's wet and she tastes _so fucking good_ and suddenly he can't help himself.

Mike growls somewhere low in his throat, wraps his arms around her thighs, and goes to town.

He'll go slow next time.

* * *

Jesus Christ.

He's not… he's not following her directives _at all_. This isn't slow, it isn't…

A groan spills out of her unchecked. He isn't going down on her - he's _eating her out_ , and there's a difference. And he's fucking good at it.

She tries to twist, but he's holding her hips tightly enough that she can't direct his movements. His message is clear - _he's_ the one who's going to be controlling her pleasure here.

He slides his tongue inside of her. "Oh my god," she gasps. Her hands shoot down and clutch at the back of his head before she can stop herself. She forces herself to let go before she accidentally pulls out his hair, and twists her hands into the sheets instead.

He moves up and fastens his lips to her clit and she jerks. Her thighs automatically close around his ears, trembling, but he presses them open again with strong hands.

"M-Mike…" She looks down, and she can see the muscles in his jaw working as he moves his mouth against her. And then he's doing something _sinful_ with his tongue and her hips buck without her permission. " _Fuck_." Her head falls back against the pillows and her eyes slam shut. "D-do that again," she says breathlessly, and he does, eagerly. Her hips jerk up hard.

"You like that?" he says - not like a tease, but like he's taking notes. Like he wants to learn exactly how to please her best. She can practically see him mentally filing all this information for later.

"Just - just keep doing that," she pleads, and he goes to work. "And don't - oh my god - don't stop, I -" She suddenly comes against his mouth so hard that it takes even _her_ by surprise. She arcs upward as she gushes against his lips and chin and he laps it all up with a groan and doesn't stop.

"Oh my god, Mike," she gasps, shuddering with aftershocks, and he echoes the sentiment against her flesh, mumbling something that sounds like _wow._ "Oh, God. I - I - nghh -" She spasms, but he keeps going. "M-Mike! P-please stop, p-please…" She buries shaking hands into his hair, panting and trembling.

"Too sensitive?" He backs off, pressing wet lips to her thigh. "God, you're hot."

He's going to be the death of her.

* * *

She's going to be the death of him. He wants to be smug about it - he's just given her a pretty good orgasm, if he does say so himself - but he can't because now he's addicted and doesn't know what he's supposed to do about that.

He uses the corner of the bedsheet to wipe his mouth before he climbs on top of her. He simply stares, admiring his handiwork. Her gaze is hooded and a little glazed over, her lips are slightly parted, and she looks thoroughly sated.

She draws one leg up against him absently, hitching it up on his side. When he slides a hand over her bare waist she shivers and pulls him down for a kiss. He thinks she must be able to taste herself on his mouth, but it doesn't seem like she minds.

"You're so responsive," he murmurs, still marveling. He slips his hand between their bodies so that he can drag his fingertips across the sensitive skin of her hips. She moans softly, encouraging, and he thinks he's given her enough time to cool down so he slides them gently between her legs. Her breath hitches, and her hands tighten where they grip his biceps. He dips down to kiss her jaw, all the way up to her ear. He growls softly, "I'll go slow this time, I promise."

Her eyes widen slightly as he begins to kiss his way back down her body. "W-what?"

But he's too distracted to answer her. He pays devoted attention to the delicious expanses of skin he'd been too impatient to explore the last time. When he settles between her legs again, he drapes them over his shoulders, turning his head to kiss both thighs. He looks up at her. She's biting her lip in wide-eyed anticipation and looking at him like she's going to reward the hell out of him later. He holds her legs down securely. "Don't suffocate me," he warns, his tone light, and runs his tongue through the wetness at her center. She tastes even better the second time.

She moans, and her thighs automatically try to tighten around his head but he holds them in place, anticipating it. He works her over slowly, and to his delight he can tell very obviously that _this_ is what she craves. He thought she was enjoying herself before, but that was nothing compared to this.

Nadine writhes on his linens like she's trying to crawl out of her own skin. She grasps fistfuls of thousand-thread count sheets in her hands. She pulls the corners of the fitted sheet completely off the mattress. She digs her heels into the bed on either side of him, hard, and tries to press up further against his mouth. Her body rolls against him fluidly.

She's moaning nonsensically, constantly, like he's turning her inside-out with his lips and tongue. He thinks that just might be his new favorite sound. She seems to be getting louder with each passing moment.

"God!" she cries, her hips undulating. "I - I -"

"Is this good?" he murmurs. "Is this what you like?" He moves his tongue against her in a languid rhythm. She's practically shaking.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she says.

"Don't you want to come?" It all seems like a cruel amount of teasing to him. "I could make you come right this second if you wanted…"

She brushes her hands over his head, not directing his movements, just running fingers through his hair. "It's better when you wait for it," she whispers, and it sounds like a dangerous promise for later.

Mike groans, and then she does, because the vibrations probably zip right through her.

"What about this?" he asks, and slides a single finger inside of her unexpectedly, making her shiver. He studies her face. "Do you like that?"

"Mmm," she manages, trying to rock her hips against it. "I-I like two."

Her wish is his command. He adds a second finger and her eyes roll back a little. He draws them out nice and slow, and then drives them into her again, twisting his fingers. Her back arches. He moves his fingers in time with the slide of his tongue over her clit, and her grip tightens on his hair, hard. He doesn't mind - it seems like he's doing it exactly right.

She begins to make these whimpery, gaspy little noises in the back of her throat and he begins to slowly grind his erection against the sheets as he works her over. He's painfully, ridiculously hard, and every new noise out of her mouth does nothing to fix it.

She's canting her hips against his mouth like she can't help herself and he's loving every second of it. "Fuck, I'm so close," she whimpers.

He lifts his head, resting his chin on her lightly as he continues to pump her with his fingers, replacing his tongue with a thumb on her clit. "What do you want me to do, sweetheart? Slower and draw it out? Or faster and make you come?" He bends down and flicks his tongue out for another taste.

"I - I -" She looks down at him but her eyes are slightly unfocused, and she seems overwhelmed by the question. "I - god, I want -" She bites her lip and tilts her head back, writhing on his hand, and the entire thing is just so damn sexy that he almost doesn't care what she wants because he wants to bury his face against her and make her come over and over again, without mercy.

"Nadine…" He hooks his fingers inside her to grab her attention back and she gasps.

"S-slow!" she gets out. "Slower and harder; god, I'll come so fast…" She's wrapped her legs around his shoulders and is trying to get her hips up to his mouth again.

"Anything you want, gorgeous," he murmurs, already dipping his head down to get back to her. He slides his tongue over her with slow, hard strokes, just like she said, and she cries out at the contact. Her thighs squeeze around his ears but he doesn't try to stop her this time; just focuses on trying to get her to come as hard and long as possible. Even muffled, he can hear that her moans are rising in volume. She might even scream, just like she promised him she would.

Another hard swipe of his tongue and she comes on his face with a loud shriek.

"Mmph," he says, and grabs her ass and holds her in place as she convulses and writhes and _screams_ \- she's screaming and he doesn't think he's ever heard anything hotter. He laps her all up, stroking her through her seemingly endless orgasm with enthusiasm.

She whimpers his name in a soft voice as she begins to calm down, and it makes him hard as hell. When her legs jerk against his back he dials it down to softer, feather-light strokes.

* * *

"Jesus," she mutters breathlessly. She lets her legs fall open limply on either side of Mike.

He gives her one last soft lick and lifts his head. "You're Jewish."

"Shut up." There's no real force behind her words, though - she's still dazed.

"And hot," he adds unnecessarily. He kisses his way back back up her body and then presses a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. She cradles his face in both hands and kisses him back.

"That was _really_ good," she murmurs, and he smiles into her kiss.

"Even better next time," he promises. "Once I learn you better."

She shivers at the thought.

Against her stomach, Mike is still rock-hard and patient, not asking anything for himself. She tilts her hips up to rub against him, slippery and wet, and he groans. She kisses her way up to his ear. "Tell me how you want me," she murmurs, tugging on his earlobe lightly with her teeth. "Whatever you want, you can have."

His breath hitches. He swears. She can practically hear his mind racing as he tries to decide. "I want you to ride me," he rasps, and her lips quirk. She remembers that he'd _particularly_ enjoyed that last time.

"Is that a turn on for you?"

" _You're_ a turn on for me," he says, shifting them so that he's flat on his back and she's draped on top of him. "But yes. I dreamed about it, you know. About you."

She grins openly at that. "Did you?" _That_ explains why he was so persistent in going out with her again. She sits up, straddling him, and grasps him with one hand, making him moan. She pumps him a few times before positioning him at her center.

"Yep. You are extremely…" he groans as she lowers herself onto him, "...talented."

She sighs and closes her eyes, letting her head fall back, enjoying the feeling of fullness. Mike's hands slide around her waist, up her ribcage, over her breasts. She shifts her hips when he tweaks her nipples, and he moans again. She opens her eyes, looks down at him. He's looking all over her body frantically, as if he's trying to drink her in, memorize her.

Slowly, she begins to move.

She learns some things about him as she begins to ride him. He likes it when she fucks him hard, slamming her ass down on him in rough, full strokes, but he _loves_ it when she rocks on top of him with a fluid, syrupy rolling of her hips. Because "if you ride me that hard," he'd choked out, as he frantically gripped her hips to make her stop, "I'll come on the spot. Have mercy." He wants to savor it, he'd said. Make it last.

She likes it like that, too. So she falls on top of him so that they're as close as she can get, and she rolls her hips on his cock and kisses him with pliant, open lips, like she's making love to his mouth, too.

"You feel good," she murmurs on a low moan. She circles her hips in a new pattern, making Mike's eyes roll, before reverting back to her original rhythm. She won't come again - not after those two explosive orgasms he'd given her earlier - but she's loving this anyway, and she's going to fuck him until he forgets his own name. She squeezes her inner muscles around him.

"You - god - you feel fantastic," he groans. He's meeting her thrusts in counterpoint, completely in sync with her movements. She keeps going like this until she hears the slightest change in his breathing; it becomes a little ragged, a little harsh, like he's getting close.

No more messing around.

Nadine raises up a little, sending out a hand to grip the headboard for leverage, and puts more force behind her hips. The thing is - she's _good_ at this, and she damn well wants him to know it.

* * *

"Holy shit," he gasps, grabbing her ass, because she's suddenly begun to ride him like she's trying to fuck him into oblivion. He could die right here a happy man. "Nadine…"

Her upper body leans over him, breasts hovering right above his face. He licks a path up the tight lines of her stomach and then capture her nipple in his mouth. She moans, and begins to bounce on him even faster.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

 _Don't come, don't come, don't come_ …

Blindly, he slides his hand around so he can rub her clit with his thumb in a desperate attempt to at least bring her as close as he is. But she brushes his hand away, and when he tries again, she entwines his hands in both of hers and pins them down on the mattress. His eyes fly open in surprise. If that didn't turn him on _more_...

"This is about _you_ ," she murmurs. And then she's doing something wicked with her hips, like she knows he's trying to hold off and wants to subvert all of his efforts using nothing but her body.

"Nadine I'm way too close, you have to slow down," he gasps.

"Just let go." She braces her hands on his chest for more stability and Mike's now-freed hands shoot to her hips, controlling her rhythm in the way he needs.

" _Fuck_." And he does come, almost the instant she tells him to, as if his dick follows orders when she's the one giving them. He thrusts erratically a few times, then holds her hips down hard against him as he spills into her.

She presses her body to his, breathing hard, and rests her ear against his chest. His heart is thumping wildly. Mike runs his fingertips over her back, skin smooth and sweat-slick.

Is it even possible that she was a better lay this time than the first time?

It's only when Nadine chuckles and presses a kiss to his chest that he realizes, a little embarrassed, that he'd actually said that out loud.

"Well I _was_ pretty drunk the first time," she points out. And then, because she must be trying to kill him, she adds, "You know, I usually give better blowjobs, too."

 _Better_ blow-

He almost can't think of what to say. 'Better' might kill him.

Nadine is smirking. "I'll give you a demonstration later."

 _She's_ going to kill him.


End file.
